


Problems with the Western Front

by CitrusVanille



Category: History Boys - Bennett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-29
Updated: 2008-04-29
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4583997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CitrusVanille/pseuds/CitrusVanille
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the play/movie, Irwin and Dakin had to postpone their ‘drink’ due to the accident, but it was only a raincheck, and have, in the last several months, ‘gone out for a drink’ several times. Irwin's wondering where they are now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Problems with the Western Front

The bedroom is dim, the only light coming from around the edges of the curtained windows and the lamp in the partially visible hallway. Dakin – Tom still thinks of him as Dakin, no matter how much time passes, and it’s become almost a running joke between them – is sprawled across the bed on his stomach, the covers tangled around his legs, one arm across Tom’s waist, hand on Tom’s hip, giving all the appearance of sleep, but Tom – lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling – can tell from his breathing that he hasn’t drifted off quite yet.

“Are you still seeing Felix’s secretary?” he asks, unable to keep the question in any longer, but doing his damnedest to make it sound casual.

Dakin shifts slightly. “What?” his voice is slightly muffled, and he’s plainly not really awake.

“Felix’s secretary,” Tom repeats. “Fiona.” He tries not to choke on the name. “Are you still seeing her?”

Dakin is still half-asleep, still half-buried in the pillows and Tom’s neck. “Does it matter?”

“I was just asking,” Tom says with a bit of a shrug, made awkward by his prone position, and hopes he doesn’t sound as uncomfortable as he feels.

“And I’m just asking if it matters.” Dakin’s voice is still slightly muffled, but it’s clear that he’s more awake than he was.

“I didn’t say it mattered,” Tom tries to keep his voice level.

“You didn’t say it didn’t, either.”

Tom tries not to fidget. “Should it matter?”

Dakin sits up, fully awake now, and looks down at Tom, a slight crease between his brows. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

“I thought it was just a simple question.” Tom continues to stare at the ceiling just past Dakin’s left ear, avoiding his eyes.

“With a simple answer?”

“Yes.”

Dakin’s mouth twitches. “If I answer your simple question, will you answer mine?”

Tom blinks. “What’s your simple question?”

“Why my simple answer matters.”

“I didn’t say it mattered,” Tom repeats himself, wishing he’d just kept his mouth shut.

“You didn’t say it didn’t, either,” Dakin says again in reply, slightly mocking.

Tom turns over onto his side, facing away from Dakin. “No need to answer,” he says, trying to hide the sudden hurt, hoping he doesn’t sound childish. “I know.” He closes his eyes tightly, adding in a low voice, almost to himself, “No reason not to see her.”

There’s a silence that seems to stretch for years, but is probably only a few seconds before Dakin says, “D’you want me to stop seeing her?” and Tom can’t read his tone.

“Do what you like,” he responds, and it is his turn to sound muffled as he buries his face in the pillows, knowing he sounds juvenile and not caring.

Dakin’s hands touch Tom’s shoulder lightly, then more firmly as he tries to turn him over to face him. Tom resists, feeling his eyes start to sting.

“Look at me, would you?” Tom can hear the frown in Dakin’s voice. “And give me a straight answer, for once. I’ll stop seeing her if it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Tom bites out, still determinedly facing away as he tries to blink back the tears that won’t stop, feeling more and more like a stupid little girl by the minute. “Why should it bother me?”

“If it doesn’t bother you, then something else obviously does, and I’d like for you to tell me what it is.” Dakin’s voice is getting more and more frustrated with each word, and his hands continue to tug Tom’s shoulder, palms warm against his skin. “You’ve been in a mood for the last week, but you won’t talk about it, so how am I supposed to know how to fix it – _Would you look at me, dammit?_ ”

Dakin finally forces Tom to face him, just long enough to see his face – which Tom knows is tear-stained and pained – before Tom manages to twist around again, very nearly hiding in the pillows.

“Look… I…” Dakin is clearly stunned, and not sure what to do. “I don’t need to see her anymore…”

“No need to be so flip,” Tom mutters harshly into the cotton pillowcase, hating himself more with each passing moment. “ _I_ know you can find a million others… no need for her… or anyone…”

“Is that what…?” Tom can practically hear the proverbial light dawning on marble head. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I’d meant…” Dakin’s obviously trying to fix things, not stick his foot farther into his mouth, but he’s struggling with it. It makes Tom feel a little better that he’s not the only one who’s so awful at this. “I’d rather…” Dakin hesitates, awkward, then continues in a rush, “with you it’s – I know we’re not – we never said we were – but if you’d like – I don’t need to see her anymore. If you don’t want me to. Or anyone else. If you want to… just be us, you know.”

“Don’t do it unless you want to,” Tom tells his pillow. “Don’t do something you might regret.”

“Will you look at me?”

Tom takes a deep breath and slowly turns to face him. Dakin touches his cheek gently, brushing away some of the dampness that might still be tears, then, almost shyly, takes Tom’s hands in his.

“I want it if you do,” he says, softly. “And I won’t regret it.”

Tom stares at him for a long moment, trying to read his eyes in the half-light, then, slowly, as he realises Dakin’s telling the truth, he starts to smile, and can feel it growing to spread across his face. “All right, then,” he says.

Dakin laughs, then – half-relief, half-exuberance – and lunges, tackling Tom into the mattress.

**END**


End file.
